Untitled, 2003, Styrofoam Cups Hot Glue, Tara Donovan, Ace Gallery, Los Angeles
Readymade revival, so happy together
When Marcel Duchamp moved to the U.S. in 1915, he allegedly encountered the snow shovel for the first time. It was an epiphany for him. Art need not be painted. He could go to Woolworth's and acquire his art ready-made. Half a century later Robert Smithson likened Duchamp's rejection of "retinal art" to a spiritual awakening for ordinary objects. The snow shovel like his inverted bicycle wheel were preludes. Before World War I ended, Duchamp would marry the low-brow to high art when he famously united the urinal with the art world. Back then, however, he was the high priest of a small movement. Andy Warhol would take it retail when he compared the Macy's department store to museums. The crowds grew larger.
Today the stakes have grown higher and the zealotry of contemporary art has escalated to an evangelical fervor. The denizens descend in droves to the art fairs from Basel to Miami Beach, and the rest of us shop at Costco and Wal-Mart. Now a new Rick Warren of the readymade alter has arisen Phoenix-like from the aisles of the warehouse store. Tara Donovan has come to the rescue, freeing the ordinary en masse from their common fate to tele-evangelical heights never seen before in Duchamp's day nor in retail design. That's because she has to buy out entire stocks to shape her installations in the cavernous exhibition spaces of the likes of Ace Gallery, the Metropolitan Museum, and the numerous kunsthalles to follow. In her hands, the Styrofoam cup has regained its ubiquity after being shunned by Starbuck's, no longer the bane of landfill. Instead, thousands of Styrofoam cups combine to form clouds the size of a house. Or she stacks thousands upon thousands of drinking straws to create a ghost-like alter evoking a haze to the eye and mind. She even defies gravity, coaxing tens of thousands of toothpicks to stick together forming a four-foot cube and paean to post-minimalism. Donovan's art and genius will come together in October in Boston and beyond.
She can borrow our club card anytime.
Toothpicks, 2001, Toothpicks held together by Friction and Gravity only, Tara Donovan, Ace Gallery, Los Angeles
-toa